Doris looked at him with rather mocking eyes, but
said nothing. She fully recognised, however,
that Arthur would have been an ungrateful wretch if
he had not enjoyed it. Lady Dunstable had been,
so to speak, at his feet, and all her little court
had taken their cue from her. He had been flattered,
drawn out, and shown off to his heart’s content,
and had been most naturally and humanly happy.
“And I,” thought Doris with sudden repentance,
“was just a spiky, horrid little toad! What
was wrong with me?” She was still searching,
when Meadows said reproachfully:
“I thought, darling, you might have taken a
little more trouble to make friends with Lady Dunstable.
However, that’ll be all right. I told her,
of course, we should be delighted to go to Scotland.”
“Arthur!” cried Doris, aghast. “Three
weeks! I couldn’t, Arthur! Don’t
ask me!”
“And, pray, why?” he angrily inquired.
“Because—oh, Arthur, don’t
you understand? She is a man’s woman.
She took a particular dislike to me, and I just had
to be stubborn and thorny to get on at all. I’m
awfully sorry—but I couldn’t
stay with her, and I’m certain you wouldn’t
be happy either.”
“I should be perfectly happy,” said Meadows,
with vehemence. “And so would you, if you
weren’t so critical and censorious. Anyway”—his
Jove-like mouth shut firmly—“I have
promised.”
“You couldn’t promise for me!” cried
Doris, holding her head very high.
“Then you’ll have to let me go without
you?”
“Which, of course, was what you swore not to
do!” she said, provokingly. “I thought
my wife was a reasonable woman! Lady Dunstable
rouses all my powers; she gives me ideas which may
be most valuable. It is to the interest of both
of us that I should keep up my friendship with her.”
“Then keep it up,” said Doris, her cheeks
aflame. “But you won’t want me to
help you, Arthur.”
He cried out that it was only pride and conceit that
made her behave so. In her heart of hearts, Doris
mostly agreed with him. But she wouldn’t
confess it, and it was presently understood between
them that Meadows would duly accept the Dunstables’
invitation for August, and that Doris would stay behind.
After which, Doris looked steadily out of the window
for the rest of the journey, and could not at all
conceal from herself that she had never felt more
miserable in her life. The only person in the
trio who returned to the Kensington house entirely
happy was Jane, who spent the greater part of the
day in describing to Martha, the cook-general, the
glories of Crosby Ledgers, and her own genteel appearance
in Mrs. Meadows’s blouse.
